


You were banished but he was not

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [68]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Chris and Peter are mates, M/M, Mpreg, Stiles Stilinski is a Hale, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to Beacon Hills after years of staying away wasn’t easy, after hiding from the past and fearing the future John was now driving past the Welcome to Beacon Hills sign in the same beaten-up Jeep he’d left the town in, it wasn’t an easy thing to do returning to a place where he’d been treated like something less simply because he was born an omega and because he refused to accept to be just that. There was no real security for him here even if he’d managed to gain employment as the Sheriff’s new deputy and hopefully replacement once the aging beta retired. John knew that there was no real safety in hiding behind the badge which he’d earned by working harder than everyone else and by proving to everyone he was as though and strong as a beta; not that he was an omega anymore not since he’d crossed the border to birth his son and undid what biology had made him into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 15 Minutes has returned once again with little stories written by me for my friend let’s call her Doom who asked for a fic where the Sheriff is an Omega who got knocked-up by Peter who is an Alpha, but Peter doesn’t mate with him no he mates with Chris and so Stilinski runs away with his tail between his legs. Glorious wanted there to be angst and I’m not sure I managed to do it. And once more people 15minutes isn’t enough time to really write something good. And just so that you all know I’m not familiar with some of the stuff in this story like the whole Omega and Alpha thingy as well and I’m sure I’ll get a lot of shit for doing one or 135 things wrong in regards to the whole A/B/O thingy.

 

Returning to Beacon Hills after years of staying away wasn’t easy, after hiding from the past and fearing the future John was now driving past the Welcome to Beacon Hills sign in the same beaten-up Jeep he’d left the town in, it wasn’t an easy thing to do _returning_ to a place where he’d been treated like he was _nothing_ he was nothing simply because he’d been born an omega and he was worse than nothing in certain circles because John Stilinski had refused to accept to be just that an omega; he’d refused to become just another mated omega who would do nothing but birth little werewolf babies for the honor of his mate and pack, he’d refused to get chained to a house and home and that had been a crime in itself. 

 

There was no real security for John here in his hometown even if he’d managed to gain employment as Sheriff’s station, it wouldn’t matter to some individuals that he had returned to be Sheriff Bradford’s new deputy and hopefully replacement for the old Beta once the aging sheriff decided to retire and focus on his ever growing family.John knew there was no real safety in hiding behind a badge which he had truly earned to carry by working harder than everyone else, by proving to _everyone_ he could do everything a Beta that being an omega didn’t stop him from bringing down an assailant; not that John was an omega anymore not since he’d gone across the border to birth his son and to undo the injustice biology had done to him, he was no longer the same lithe lean figure with smooth hairless skin and alluring scent he’d been before he’d been forced to run for the sake of his little cub. ****

 

Driving down the familiar streets John became haunted by the memory of his hasty departure from leaving this small town nestled amongst the ever aging forests that had always been under the protection of the Hale pack, these days there where however two very prominent packs holding court in Beacon Hills, the Hales and the Argents two packs united by mating and marriage; of course there very plenty of small packs dwelling under the protection of either the Hales or the Argents, his own pack had been miniscule one long before John’s birth and now with the death of his grandparents John and his little boy were now the only living members of the Stilinski pack and bloodline, driving down the same old streets past familiar buildings and stores knowing he was returning to a place full of dangers John felt the same fear that had grasp at his heart while making his escape;John Stilinski had left his hometown un-mated and pregnant only to now return _still_ un-mated but with a cub of his own, and of course he was now returning to Beacon Hills without his omega-glands and the reproductive system that had managed to grace him with his special little boy, John had left fearing for his life and the life of his unborn child while now he returned for the sake of his son’s life and well-being.

 

John glanced over at his little boy who was seated securely in his car-seat which like so many other belongings John had managed to find in a thrift-store,with this new job John hoped he could finally afford to buy his son newand shinier things that weren’t just diapers and food.John hadn’t really wanted to return to Beacon Hills but he had too for the sake of his son, for the sake of his only child the one and only pup he would ever have,his son might not share agreat-deal similarities in his appearancewith John which caused a great-deal of souls who didn’t catch on to the scent they shared to think that John had adopted his little son,but the little boy sucking on the ear of Mr. Bunny was _all_ _his_ because there was _nothing_ in this world that could make John forget the agony he’d been in while giving birth to his baby boy; and not only didn’t his little cub resemble John but his little boy lacked any similarities in his appearance when it came to his other-father as well but Stiles did carry not only John’s scent but also the Alpha’s who’d got him pregnant. 

 

John could tell his son didn’t feel all that safe and secure at that moment, it wasn’t just the increasingly potent scent of distress and anxiety coming off of his little boy confirmed what the suckling already told him.John had so very clearly failed at convincing his son that this move, this change of scenery was for the best and the move _was_ beneficial or at least John hoped that the move would prove beneficial for his little boy.Beacon Hills Memorial had the best Dire unity in the U.S, sure there were only three in the whole country but Beacon Hills Memorial was the top establishment for the treatment of Dire-Syndrome, when Dr. Morell and Dr. Mahealani contacted John after two years of waiting informing they were highly interested in having his son in their trials which was reasonable considering how few Dire-cubs survived past the age of three, it was this unit that had caused John to choose his home town and take the job he’d been offered and to uproot his son and drag him across the country; John owed his son this change, he owed Stiles a chance to live a normal life because it was John’s fault that his baby boy had been born prematurely and with Dire-Syndrome, John had been a fool in trusting an Alpha and all the wrong people who drove him out of town with his body bruised and battered and with a mind racing with fear and dread,it was John’s fault that his son wasn’t born right because he hadn’t sought help when he began to suffer from what was in simple terms called the Omega Drop; the stress and anxiety John had suffered during his short-termed pregnancy had hindered his son’s development and so John could not deny his son the chance of getting the best when it came to treating his ailment, all John wanted to do now was to help his son live a long and happy life.

 

Of course John could’ve had his son legally euthanized it would’ve been the easier thing to do, no judge would’ve denied the application ones his own and his son’s medical records were placed before them, his son neither talked or walked or expressed and by most physicians accounts Stiles had no real understanding of his surroundings but John disagreed with that statement because he could tell his son understood and recognized some things without their being scent or touch involved or even sounds; his son liked to watch stuff like The Care Bears and Steven Universe the later was a thing Stiles babysitter Hanna had introduced him too, and Stiles seemed to prefer being addressed by the nickname Hannah had given him too as well as baby boy or little one any other like the name John had given him seemed to cause the boy to tense-up a little; sure, Stiles couldn’t talk or walk, he didn’t like other toys than Mr. Bunny but his son understood thing John was sure of it, like his son knew what he liked and didn’t like and Stiles understood the difference between a rumble and a growl, and the fact that his boy understood things and liked things made it impossible for John to even consider ending his son’s life. 

 

His son may not be perfect but John did love the boy a great deal.

 

Stiles adjusting to their new surroundings could take from anywhere between a couple of months to a couple of years, and all in all John could only hope that they could get through a week with only a couple of panic attacks and no hospitalizations;most of the cubs born with third-degree Dire Syndrome and without both of it’s parental-halves at its side weren’t known to survive past their third-year of living, but John’s son was an anomaly considering how he was raised with a single-parent and no pack and had survived to his fourth-year and that was without having a private nurse around to help John out, and it was the uniqueness of Stiles situation that had been the reason why John’s son had been invited to join the Dire-Cub research and rehabilitation unity at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital which meant John would no longer have to scrape and saveto pay for his son’s treatments, and for the first-time Stiles would have his very own well-trained nurse to care for him while John was at work. 

 

`We’ll be fine here, you’ll see.´ John tells his son who stares with wide fearful eyes at the world outside their car, `You’ll have your very own nurse to look after you when daddy has to work, and I’m sure you’ll make proper friends soon kiddo.´ John doesn’t really believe his son will make any friends not with the whole lack of communicating and the inability to play, but John could dream couldn’t he? 

 

** ~*~ **

 

John checks to make sure the colorful earphones Hanna had given Stiles as a goodbye present before the father and son team left for a hopefully better life were securely settled on the little head of his son, he’d already checked and double-check to make sure the volume of the _safe_ and _comforting_ sounds of nature which was infused with John’s own calm heartbeat wasn’t too high for the sensitive little ears of his son.John takes his time to make sure that his little boy who’d behaved remarkably well thus far was securely seated in the special-seat designed for Dire-cubs, the straps were soft but fear more secure and binding than those of an average child-seat, although his son isn’t very active John knows not to take anything for granted; he’d been told after the birth of his son that the cub wouldn’t survive the night but his cub had survived the night and the following day, his cub learned to feed when everyone said never would, and his continued to be a strange little cub who always managed to surprise John when his thoughts turned dark and doubt settle in his heart.

 

John kisses his sons forehead once feeling a slight sense of pride at the memory of how many times his son had managed to baffle not only John but the doctors whom he’d mistakenly entrusted his sons care too, Stiles was four now and he was a few months away from turning five and if he managed that then John was certain his son could do _anything_ and it seemed he wasn’t the only one who had faith in his little miracle Dr. Morrel and Dr. Mahaelani had both been visibly pleasantly surprised by his son although he’d honestly done nothing spectacular during the exam, but it still had felt good to hear the words, “He’s a fine little boy Mr. Stilinski.” no one had ever said such things to John and he’d nearly burst-out crying from the sheer joy of hearing someone else refer to his miracle-baby as something other than a failure or a disappointment. 

 

`My precious little miracle.´ John mumbles against the soft brown hair on the top of the little head before moving to check on his son’s pupils his son seemed relaxed, eye-lids heavy. His son maybe suckling on the spit-soaked ear of the plush-toy rabbit Mrs. Espinoza had made for the little boy she’d helped into the world, but John can tell his son is fairly relaxed today even after the quick run to the sheriff’s station after their first check-up at the hospital. Once certain his son was comfortable enough and secure enough for John’s peace of mind John takes his first steps away from the Jeep heading straight towards the automatic doors of the large store, he knows from experiences that there was a 85% chance that Stiles would snap out of his sense of calm at some-point during their trip to the store and that was why John usually had Hannah watch Stiles while he did the shopping, but now there’s no Hannah and the nurse wouldn’t be around until next-week if John had any luck at all. 

 

`You need to calm down. You need to stay calm for Stiles.´ John mumbles as he continues to walk, straightening his back and glancing down at his son who at the moment wasn’t aware of anything but well John had no idea of what his son was aware of at the moment, but as long as Stiles was relaxed and comfortable all was good. 

 

John starts to walk towards the large grocery-store, even at the age of four his son was no bigger than a two-year old which wasn’t such a strange thing even if John had done everything in his power to give his son a safe and secure upbringing, high anxiety was known to cause a physical halt in the development of a Dire-cub or pup and his son had stopped growing years ago which had also been the time when John had made the mistake of trusting the wrong people; John seemed to have a gift of trusting the wrong Alpha’s no matter where he went. 

 

`Here we go.´ John mumbles before taking the first step towards the large store, as the automatic doors open John breathes a sigh of relief there aren’t all that many people around then again it’s close to closing-time and most of the towns folk had already done their shopping and getting ready for the full-moon if the traditions hadn’t changes the run would take place that night; John hadn’t been on a run since the night when old-Alpha Argent and his psychotic daughter caught him and John knew better than to think back to that night instead he focused on his son taking in the details of his pretty little face.

 

They’d only been in town for a day and a-half but John was certain that most people in town were by now aware of his return and about his son, he was frankly surprised that the Argent’s hadn’t already come banging at his door making threats but then again perhaps John just thought about himself a little bit too highly; after all who the hell was he to anyone but Stiles anymore, he was nothing to anyone but his son and he knew it but he was still worried about his safety as well as his son, then again if he did disappear or something happened to both him and his son he’d made arrangements so that the light of suspicion was shined on the Argents. John was no longer the same naïve little omega he’d been once upon a time and if the Argent’s so much as look at him or his son the wrong way John would show them all how much he’d changed. 

 

John breathes in the comforting scent of his little one, he ignores the way the other shoppers look at him and his son it’s hardly anything new, and neither are the whispers none of this is new and therefor it shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. John shoots a few glares when words like “should be put down” are thrown around.John pick-out some of his son’s favorite fruits and vegetables, unlike most werewolf cubs Stiles preferred a fruits and vegetable diet instead of the more usual four-year old cubs dietary needs and desires that held a great deal of meat; of course some of Stiles previous doctors had said John shouldn’t indulge Stiles pickiness when it came to foods, but after spending three days with a cub who refused to eat John had decided to hell with what the doctors said. John smiles a little as he snatches the last tiny box of strawberries he can’t wait to watch the look on his baby boys face when he realizes his daddy had bought him strawberries sure they weren’t as delicious as they would be in a few months when the strawberry season on, but they would be good enough until the strawberries plants John was planning on planting in their small garden so his son could have strawberries for breakfast and for a snack; and maybe just maybe John had this image in his head of his son sitting amongst the strawberry plants and picking and eating them all on his own.

 

Things are going well until John is trying to find some goats milk for his son it was the only form of milk except of course for the one John had been able to produce that didn’t rush straight through Stiles body, he’s searching and cursing under his breath when his son begins to whine and it’s not the sort that is all about discomfort it’s a loud high-pitched whine of distress that has John turning immediately towards the direction of his son.

 

`Hi there sweetheart,´ John’s heart nearly stops at the sight of Peter Hale while his entire body shivers momentarily at the smoothness of that familiar voice, it had once upon a time whispered such sweet things, such dirty things into John’s ear. John watches as Peter and his mate Chris Argent inch ever so closer towards his son who was growing increasingly distressed by the scent of an unfamiliar Alpha so close to him, John stands frozen in place for a second or two but when Peter’s face and hands inch closer to his son something within John snaps and he roars out furiously.

 

`Get away from my son! ´Both Chris and Peter jump a little and the sight gives John a sense of satisfaction he hadn’t felt in years,as his son’s distress grows John lunges himself forward towards his son, pushing both Alphas as far away from his son as he possibly can; John turns his attention towards his son who’d started to cry in earnest during the time it took for John to get his mind and body going, from the way his baby was breathing John knew that his son was getting closer and closer to one of his fits.

 

`It’s okay baby,´ John says pulling down the earphones so his baby boy can hear him, his hands are moving franticly to try and release his son from the seat, `It’s okay, daddy’s got you, it’s okay, look at me baby daddy’s here.´ 

 

`John? ´ hears Peter laugh in disbelief and shock, something dark curls around John’s heart and he _yearns_ to rage and rant, he wants to punch that handsome face beat it and the one of his mates to a bloody mess,John _wants_ to rip and carve his anger and hurt into both of them, he wants the world to know what his cheating now ex-asshole-of-a-boyfriend and John’s former-best-fucking-friend had done to him, _but_ John can’t waste time on Peter-lying-liar-Hale and Chris-I’ll-mate-with-your-boyfriend-Argent because his son needs him.

 

John bends down to kiss the creased forehead of his little one, if his son had been a healthy-normal-werewolf cub he would’ve wolfed-out the moment he’d felt threatened and probably lashed out with his tiny claws but John’s cub wasn’t like other cubs and so all his baby did was freeze-up and just cry for his father to come this was of course one of many reasons why the survival-rate of Dire-cubs were so very low; the fight or flight instinct weren’t within Dire-cubs who simply froze and made distressed sounds some believed that it was nature’s way of clearing away the weak and unwanted but Stiles wasn’t unwanted.

 

`John? John Stilinski, is that you? ´ Peter continues to say voice full of disbelief and once steady on his feet the Alpha begins to move towards John and his little cub as does his mate who sounds equally surprised to see John back in town, then again in the shape John had been when escaping the Argents basement he should’ve died or at least miscarried his cub but John wasn’t dead and neither was his little cub who was growing more and more distressed. 

 

`John? Oh my god, John? ´ John glares at Chris who looks at him like John was suddenly the Ghost of Christmas pasts, and perhaps John was a ghost in the eyes of the mated pair, and John nearly asks the Alpha who would one day with Peter rule over the Hale pack and over half of the packs in Beacon Hills if he was surprised because John wasn’t dead, but John can’t waste a breath on either Alpha not when his son wasn’t alright.

 

`Daddy’s got you baby, ´ John continues to say while carefully picking-up his son who because of his condition had very fragile bones so using too much force could easily break something with the little body before leaving the cart where it stood and heading straight towards the exit, `I’ve got you, you’re okay. We’re okay baby.´

 

`John?! Stop. Wait. ´ He can hear Peter and Chris call out after him but he ignores the two Alphas and focuses on just getting his son as far away from Peter-bloody-Hale and Chris-asshole-Argent as possible. 

 

`It’s okay baby, we’re going home.´ John continues to tell his son as he races out of the store and straight to his Jeep, his fumbling with his keys a little before unlocking the car door, `We’re going home baby, and everything’s going to be okay.´ John tells his son while trying to get the now ridged body into the car-seat, `Come on baby work with me,´ John pleads with his little boy who just won’t sit or rather doesn’t seem to understand that he’s supposed to sit and the way his son is breathing tells him his son is now stuck inside his head trapped with monsters John can’t fight. 

 

`I promise you baby, I _promise_ you, we’re safe, ´ John tells his son giving-up on getting his baby into the car-seat and just ups to holding his son as close as possible kissing any part of his son he can reach without joisting his baby boy about too much, `No one is going to hurt us.´ The high-pitched whine his son lets out tells John his boy had just caught him in a lie and he curses inwardly at his own stupidity. His son wasn’t stupid and treating him like he was didn’t help his son in anyway. 

 

`What the hell John? ´ John hears Chris breathe out as the two Alpha’s rush across the parking-lot towards him and his son, John turns sharply to glare at the mated couple and Peter is only a few steps in the lead,and there’s a strange look in Peter’s eyes as he looks between John and his little boy. John can tell that the Alpha is scenting both him and his cub which causes John to move further away from Peter. 

 

`Stay away.´ John snaps at the two approaching Alpha’s, Chris does pause but Peter however doesn’t and his blue eyes are flashing crimson as they zero-in-on John’s little boy who was whining even louder now than before, `He’s a Dire-cub and you’re upsetting him, so just leave us _alone_.´ Peter does pause but his eyes are still on Stiles and the color of those intense orbs are still glowing-crimson. John knows the wheels are turning, it’s both unnerving and for some strange reason comforting to find that even after nearly five years nothing had changed when it came to Peter, John knows that the longer he allows Peter to be near his cub the faster the Alpha will figure John’s little secret-out. 

 

`He’s how old John? ´ Peter asks while taking another step closer to where John and his son are standing.

 

`So you’ve grown stupid, is that it Hale, or are you just so hell bent in driving my son into a panic attack? ´ John grows flashing his own lavender colored eyes at the Alpha, both his words and flashing of those orbs that would always remain the same horrible color regardless of how many years he lived without being a proper omega causes Peter to growl at him which of course causes his son to whimper even louder.

 

`How old is he John? ´ Peter continues to ask and John knows what the Alpha is really asking and John hates him even more now than he’d thought possible. 

 


	2. Judge us not

 

John Stilinski curses his feeble luck as he stands there face to face with the two who’d betrayed and broke his heart, he had held no delusions about being able to go his remaining years without crossing paths with either one or that neither one would come across his son at some point, but John had hoped the revelation of Peter Hale’s illegitimate child would’ve come when John had orchestrated it to be known.He’d had no desire for it to become known in such a crude and unsafe manner, John had hoped this revelation would’ve taken place with some distance between Peter and Stiles, John had wanted to avoid having his little boy caught in any possible crossfire that might happen when Peter realized the child John had born wasn’t the perfect cub someone like Peter would expect to have helped create.

 

Peter Hale was a perfectionist. A Dire cub was not perfection. And John knew that Peter Hale didn’t handle well imperfections or failures, and Stiles was in the eyes of many Alpha’s and Beta’s even Omega’s a failure and imperfection; a Dire cub were stains most pack’s dealt with by eradicating them before they had lived for a day, and the law had only one duty in these cases and that was to make sure the cub hadn’t suffered unnecessarily during its death, and yes the law didn’t even consider a Dire cubs throat being slashed or drowned in the tub as murder as long as it was done by either parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle or the Alpha of the pack. 

 

For someone like Peter Hale and the Hale’s in general Stiles was something disgusting, John had witnessed the Alpha of the Hale Pack snap the neck of the little Dire cub that had been born to Talia’s own sister, a sister who’d lost her mate during a skirmish with the Argent Pack and so John knew exactly how well this cub of his would be received by Peter and the Hales not to mention Chris and the Argents; and that was why John would’ve preferred his son be somewhere else when the news of Peter’s offspring was brought to light.

 

John glares at the Alpha, no longer submissive and eager to please. John stands tall and growls out a sharp and angry question for the Alpha to answer, `How old do you think he is Hale? ´ There had been a time before he risked his life for a freedom of will he hadn’t possessed as an Alpha that John wouldn’t have dared to speak to an Alpha in such a disrespectful fashion, there had been a time when he’d have avoided glaring straight at the Alpha instead bowing his head in submission or baring his throat for the stronger werewolf, but those days were gone and John would stand his ground.

 

`Don’t growl at me Omega.´ Peter says with a cold smoothness full of warning that would’ve had John baring his throat in the past but these days John did not appreciate any Alpha trying to push him down for any remind of John’s Omega birth was not appreciated by John; well, all but one, his son was the only thing about his past John did not despise for to him Stiles was a miracle cub who’d survived so much just to be born.

 

No longer the weak little omega desperate to please his Alpha John stood a little bit taller and bared his fangs at Peter Hale, and if only the Alpha had paid better attention to John then and now he would’ve probably noticed the slightly less litheness to his figure now, but Peter had obviously never really cared for John the way the Omega had cared for Peter, and so John snarls out, `No longer an Omega, so don’t push your luck Hale.´ 

 

Peter and his mate are both visibly taken aback by this small piece of information, which was understandable considering how tampering with natures creation was thought to be unnatural a crime even, but to John being an Omega had never felt right he’d felt wrong all the time like he was born into the wrong body nothing about being an omega had felt right to him.Peter looks absolutely appalled when after he’d scented the air and found that yes indeed John Stilinski had done the unthinkable.

 

`John, what have you done? ´ Chris says not even trying to hide how much the news disturbed him and John hadn’t held any delusions that his former best friend would be anything but unsupportive when it came to John’s decision to undo the mistake nature had created, and once upon a time Chris reaction and rejection as well as judgement would’ve weighed heavily on John’s heart as would’ve Peter’s opinion but not anymore; Chris had lost his power over John the moment he’d gone behind John’s back and mated with Peter Hale and of course the part Chris and his family had played in the attempted murder of John well that too influenced John’s way of thinking these days, and Peter well he’d shattered John’s heart and so the man and his opinions or judgement held as much value to John as a stain on his window did. 

 

`What a waste.´ Peter grumbled and that caused John to laugh bitterly because why would his Change be a waste, after the whole being betrayed not only by the Alpha he’d been made to believe loved him and his best friend John was hardly capable of trusting another Alpha again or a Beta for that matter and not to mention another Omega, and no one would want him after they found out about his Dire Cub? And even if anyone had the power to over-look John birthing a Dire Cub there were all those grim stories about newly mated Omega’s with a Dire Cub from a previous relationship being forced to kill their little Dire Cub, John would never risk his son for the sake of a mate. 

 

`A waste? ´ John snorts voice somewhat bitter and dripping with venom, `Hardly a waste.´ 

 

Stiles lets out a high-pitched and pitiful cry and John is snapped out of his anger and focuses back on his son, John attempts to comfort his upset little child but with where they were out in the open where so many danger could be found his little boy did not settle if anything Stiles had begun to tremble which had John pushing past the mated pair of traitors; John would risk driving with his son in his lap to get his little boy home and into their nest upstairs before his son slipped into his head where he could truly be stuck for days which meant hospitalization for little Stiles Stilinski. 

 

John needs to get home and take care of his little cub and deal with Peter and Chris later, his little boy was what was important at the moment not Peter or Chris or even John’s own anger and bitterness. 

 

`Now if you will please excuse me, ´ John growls while opening the car door, glaring at the two who are both moving towards him and his son even though it should be clear to both that they are not wanted or needed, `I need to get _my_ cub home.´ 

 

`John, you haven’t answered my question.´Peter says proving to John how little the man had changed during the passing years, sure he’d grown more handsome and so had Chris but Peter was still the same selfish-asshole he’d always been and John wasn’t even sure now why he’d been so deeply in love with the Alpha clearly it had to do with his Omega-hormone-addled brain. 

 

`He’s – he’s a Dire Cub.´ Chris states and John maybe a little sensitive to the pity others feel over his so-called burden and shame, the news that the little boy in John’s arms is a Dire Cub causes Peter to visibly step back like Stiles was somehow contagious which he was not and it’s that movement and look of disgust that causes John to growl, `Yes, yes he is, and he’s worth more than either one of you.´and with that John slips into his Jeep closing the door rather forcefully behind them, it takes a little bit of maneuvering before he’s got himself and Stiles settled in the Jeep, with his son tucked underneath his shirt so that Stiles had skin to skin contact while at the same time covered as much as possible John turned the key and as soon as the engine was on and rumbling John was off driving straight home not giving either one of the two males who dared to judge his son so soon a second glance.

 

_ He’s disgusted by his own son,  _ John thinks bitterly while checking his review mirror just to make sure the two men he’d once loved and trusted weren’t following him and his son home, John hadn’t expected anything less from Peter than disgust but still having his fears proven real didn’t give him a satisfied sensation in his heart because Stiles didn’t deserve being viewed as something horrible like a decaying carcass; his son deserved to be seen as just a little cub with adorable little face and soft brown hair and with a sprinkle of dark moles. 

 

Stiles whines loudly and John pats the little back and hums softly to his little boy a promise he intended never to break, `Daddy’s got you baby, and he’s never going to let anyone hurt you.´ Sure John knew he would never be able to keep people from being unfairly judgmental about his little boy because none of them could see the resilient little boy Stiles was, but if anyone ever dare to physically try and harm his son he would throw all caution and sense of legal justice out the window; Stiles might not have an Alpha to protect or care for him but he had his father and John would fight any battle to keep his son safe. 

 

Hell, John had returned to his personal hell on earth for the sake of his little cub, wasn’t that a show of how far John Stilinski was filling to go to provide for his son? But sadly his son did not understand any of it, all his son knew was that John had uprooted him to an unfamiliar place, but hopefully once Stiles settled his son would understand it all. 

 

 


	3. Don’t Come Knocking At My Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little chapter that's been on the works for what feels like forever. Hopefully those who started out loving this fic can continue to do so after this chapter which is perhaps more about John and his feelings such as fears and his love for his son, there's also a mention of bad things he's gone through.

When John Stilinski had learned that he was expecting he’d been thrilled and of course nervous, after all he’d never been pregnant before so a sense of nervousness wasn’t all that strange, if anything it was an appropriate reaction to an unfamiliar situation. But above all else John had felt for the first-time in his miserable life a sense of pride, for the first time he’d not completely felt ashamed and disgusted about being born an Omega. John had believed without a drop of doubt in his heart that the young Alpha Peter Hale would finally announce him as his mate, after all they had been seeing each other for years, such an announcement would remove some of the shame John had brought on his own family just by being born an Omega; by becoming Peter Hale’s mate would stifle any shame the unplanned and unmated pregnancy would produce after all no one would dare judge him or the pregnancy once John was a Hale. However before the light-hearted smiling omega had managed to even cross the little stretch of parking lot holding on happily to the little paper bag that contained his pre-natal vitamins as well as the little picture of the scan he’d had just half an hour ago, but like the bag all of his happily ever after dreams were dropped when he was jumped in broad daylight, John had cried out for help and made an attempt to fight against his abductors while also trying to shelter and protect his abdomen but all of his efforts had been in vain; John was beaten, kicked, electrocuted before someone injected him with something that forced him into a state of unconsciousness.

That day when John Stilinski lost what little he had while gaining something he’d grown to love more than anything or anyone else in the world, he learned to adapt and go with the punches, one might argue that Gerard and Kate Argent killed the little omega in John long before John ever could do it; when Gerard and his demented daughter revealed to him how his best friend was mated to Peter Hale who was the father of John’s unborn child his life changed, hearing about how the two Alpha’s John had trusted more than he’d done his own family had been seeing each other for months unbeknownst to John had ripped his heart to shreds, that night John Stilinski learned the meaning of true betrayal and pain, it was also the night he died and was reborn.

How many days John was trapped within the lower levels of the Argents house John did not know as his only focus had been to find his way out the hell he’d been dropped into, his only focus for hours on end was on escaping before he was brought to the point where he would miscarry. John had managed to escape the Argents, the torture and humiliation, he’d managed to escape with his child still alive in him but without anyone to trust John had taken to running, he’d ran and he’d learned to adapt to a life without any support network not that he’d had any outside of Peter and Chris to begin with.

John had learned to survive in a world that was a hostile and hateful towards lone omegas and Dire Cubs.

Still nothing John had learned or experienced helped John when Chris and Peter ambushed him at the store, nothing John had learned while alone in the world with his little cub helped him in keeping his deep resentment towards the mated pair when they were in such close proximity to him and his cub.

John had adapted, evolved with the betrayal and the birth of his son, however he hadn’t healed or forgiven either Hale or Argent or the rest of their families that had always looked down on him. His hatred ran perhaps the deepest when it came to Chris’ family since they were the ones to cause his cub to turn out what they’d all call damaged.

John was curled protectively around his son on their bed, the furs and soft pillows carrying their mingled scents and it seemed to sooth his miracle boy who was without a shadow of a doubt a miracle, his son may have been born a Dire Cub but to John his cub was just beyond special since he’d survived the drugs that knocked him out, the beatings, the asphyxiations as well as the electrocutions Kate and Gerard had so graciously provided John with, not to mention the horrible mind-alerting drugs they’d injected him with that had him screaming with terror as the world turned far more frightening around him; his baby boy had survived so much, and so although many thought his little brown-eyed boy to be unworthy of life John did not share that opinion the slightest, a small part of John wished others could understand how incredible his son was, how strong he was in reality and how resilient.

John leaned down and kissed the frown off of his little baby boy, running his hands over the little body that had stopped trembling not too long ago. From the slow and heavy way the little one was breathing John knew that his son had calmed down and was finally close to drifting off to sleep.

Crossing paths with Peter and Chris had upset his little boy enough to cause John to worry his son would not have a peaceful slumber, there was also a worry about the stress of it all causing his son to fall ill, it wouldn’t be the first time his cub would’ve been upset enough to fall severely ill.

`Oh my little boy what a messy little life you were born into,´ John whispers softly watching as sleepy brown eyes struggle to stay open, `I wish I could’ve given you a better start in life,´ and John did in all honesty wish he’d been able to give his son a life far superior to the one Stiles had been given, but this was there life and all John could do was make sure he did his best to ensure his little star lived as comfortably as possible for as long as Mother Moon wished it.

As if sensing John’s guilt and regrets his little cub wriggles a little bit closer and nuzzled against John’s chest near his heart, it was times like these when his son did something like this that made John think his son was trying to comfort him, it was times like these that made John so certain that most of the doctors and experts of Dire Cubs were wrong about how much these little cubs could understand or feel.

`It’s alright baby boy, ´ John says kissing the top of the head of his little son who continued to nuzzle against his heart, `Daddy’s just being a silly old man.´ His son made a disgruntled sound while making that adorable little frowny face which appeared when something didn’t taste right to him or when there was too much noise, or when the world simply was just a little bit too confusing for him. John couldn’t help the chuckle that left him as the idea that his son was disagreeing with him it was these moment that made John think about the boy his son could’ve been if he’d been born “normal”, John imagined that his son if he’d been allowed to be born under different conditions would’ve been a chatterbox of a son, full of mischief and energy like Peter had been, however such thoughts were useless because his son was born a Dire Cub; and yet although John knew he could not wait for Stiles to do much in life, he would’ve loved to hear his son speak if only a word or two but Dire Cubs did not speak and so although he wished now and again that for his son to one day say Daddy or Dada he knew that would never happen.  
  
`My imperfect perfect baby boy, ´ John hums softly rubbing his nose against the feather soft hairs covering the top of his sons head while breathing in the familiar scent of his cub which eases any aches in his heart, `I love you baby boy, no matter what.´ John tells his little cub who settles down once more almost as if John’s voice and words held some magical power, yawning sleepily.

They’ve almost settled down for a much needed nap when a loud knock on the door startled both of them awake, his son doesn’t immediately begin to wail like a startled child might Stiles does however begin to whine eyes widen and frantic.

John curses internally before grabbing his sweater it’s old and ratty but there’s just something about it that’s comforting, the sweater just has something about it that settles his nerves as well as his little cub whom he slips once more between his skin and clothing; the little child is already trembling and his tiny hands are cold against John’s skin, this day had not been good to his little one and it continued to be unkind to his little light.

Making their way downstairs John preparing for the worst, his son was now trembling whining all the while, John feels little hands patting and stroking at times clawing at John’s skin in search of something, the touches reminds the former Omega of the difficult months after he’d stopped producing milk which had been an unhappy side-effect of John’s treatments; but John had to go through with the change as soon as his baby boy was physically capable enough to survive without breastmilk, he had to go through the change in order to stop any Alpha from trying to scramble his brain and demand him to kill his little cub, it had been a small price to ensure that he would never be forced into killing his baby boy or to ensure he wouldn’t just stand by as an Alpha ripped his son to pieces.  
  
The banging on the door continues with an air of stubbornness that further upsets his son, naturally John attempts to comfort his distressed child with gentle touches and the soft light rumbling sound that rose from deep within him. The closer to the enforced front-door they came the greater the distress his little cub displayed, and the closer they got to the door they got the stronger the stench of Alpha became and not just any Alpha at that.  
  
Even after years being apart John recognizes Chris Argents scent, even if it was tainted with Peter’s scent. The stench of Chris the now so clearly Peter Hale’s mate was now an unpleasant one to John, it was as bitter to him as his feelings were towards his former best friend.

The former omega knew the nature of this Alpha banging on his door, or at least he thought he knew the nature of this particular Alpha, he knew Chris well enough not to think that ignoring him would eventually drive his former friend away, John knows this Alpha well enough to know he has to look him straight in the eye to drive in the message to leave. John however can’t trust Chris around his little cub; even if John was holding his son there was no way of knowing that Chris wouldn’t make a move to end the life of Peter’s mistake.   
  
John holds his cub a little bit tighter as he thinks about his options, it doesn’t take long for him to decide to hide his son and face the unwanted Alpha banging on their front-door. The knocks grew louder and louder while the familiar voice of his former best friend calls for him through the closed door that stood between them, `John, I know you’re in there. Open the door please.´

Years ago John had made a dreadful mistake trusting an Alpha couple around his little boy, that mistake had driven him to find the means with which to protect his little boy, he’d searched for ways with which to conceal his little son from prying eyes. Hurrying into the living room John quickly removed all of the things that had ended up on the large wooden trunk which served as a coffee-table in their everyday life, John lifts the lid revealing the inside of the trunk that looked like it was nothing special on the outside while the inside was something else; the sides of the trunk were covered in soft and expensive furs which seemed never to age or stain, there were extra pillows and blankets inside the trunk as was a little flashlight which John switched on before carefully lowering his most precious possession down amongst the furs and pillows. Almost as soon as his son no longer feels the contact of John’s skin and the warmth of his body, the little life John cherished more than his own started to cry, seeing his little boy cry and grow more and more upset breaks John’s heart a thousand times over.

`It’s okay baby.´ John tells his son softly while gently stroking the little tearstained cheeks, and kissing the forehead that was growing a little bit warmer once more, `I promise, you’ll be alright.´ John says as he pulls his sweater off of his own back and wraps it around the upset child that is slowly going rigid once more.

`Daddy’s going to be right back,´ John tells his son, he’s not promising anything he might not be able to keep. John wishes and not for the first time that his son wasn’t as locked out of the world as doctors and experts suggested, he hopes his son is able to understands that what he’s doing is for Stiles own safety and that the stay in the trunk wasn’t forever, and then again John also hoped his son wasn’t aware enough of the world to realize he was being locked inside the trunk John had bought from a peddler of magical goods in New York years ago; the simple looking trunk was guaranteed to keep any scents or sounds from ever escaping through the wooden walls. As soon as the lid is closed once more John is finally spared from having to hear his son crying.

John places the magazines and whatnots back on the trunk before grabbing one of his t-shirts from the laundry basket that hadn’t yet made it into the basement where the washer and dryer sat still unused, the shirt smelled a bit funny but it had to do for now as Chris is growing less and less patient behind the door and the last thing John needed was for his neighbors to call the Sheriff’s station to report a disturbance.

As John begins to unlock the door he hopes that this would not be the day he would experience the horrific sorrow of losing his one and only child, with each lock he unlocks John begs the universe for mercy and protection for his son. John opens the door only a few inches just enough to see the trespassing Alpha and for the Alpha to see him while lining himself against the door so that if Chris made a move to attempt a forceful entrance the Alpha would have fight.

`Argent.´ John growls no longer chained down by his omega instincts to submit, no longer trapped in the social norms that would have him submitting to the Alpha, no longer driven by weaker instincts John places every piece of his defiance and anger into that growl telling the other male that he did not fear an altercation; he snarled at the Alpha warning him that he John Stilinski would not let anyone walk all over him ever again.

`What are you doing here Argent? ´

Chris is visibly taken aback by the hostility behind John’s words and John might just feel a hint of joy seeing the confident Alpha become startled by the less than friendly or meek greeting he’d been expecting. Although Chris’ startled look pleased some part of John he doesn’t for a second allow it to lull him into a sense of false security, after all John had watched Chris train and knew how quickly Chris could switch from calm and unthreatening to kill-mode.

Clearing his throat Christopher Argent begins to speak his voice revealing just of nervous he truly was which made John feel even more on edge, the Alpha lifts up a paper bag that appeared to be full of groceries, `I just want to talk John – and I brought you these, ´ Chris hefts the bag up a little to draw John’s gaze away from the car parked on the street, `We weren’t sure what you needed so we bought a little bit of everything.´

Immediately at the word We John feels suddenly very much like he and his son were in danger especially when he can see that there’s someone sitting behind the wheel of the car that was far too flashy to fit anyone who lived in this part of town, the car honestly stands out like a sore thumb.  
  
John can smell the goats milk as well as the fruits and berries all of which his cub needs and none of which he has in the house, but there’s also far too much in the form of meat products just like the experts insisted the diet of Dire Cub should be all raw meat and very little else; the theory was that the meat would help keep the wolf in the children alive, to help it grow strong enough to start healing the damage of the Dire Cubs, John however went against these guidelines simply because his son refused to eat the restricted meals and although doctors had told him force feeding wasn’t harmful because Dire Cubs weren’t aware of any excess suffering or discomfort John just couldn’t do it.  
  
John wants the goats milk, the bananas and apples too, he wants the chocolate pudding cubs that are treats for his baby boy after visits to the doctor or something unpleasant; sure, some thought his son didn’t taste the difference between chocolate pudding and meat that had gone through the blender, but John would swear that when the first and last teaspoon of chocolate pudding slipped into his sons little mouth the little brown orbs shined just a little bit brighter as if his son was smiling at him, as if his son was happy and satisfied but John knew these treats had to be very rare and far between because like milk and sugar these chocolate treats were poisonous to his little boy or at least that was what he was being told.

`Come on John, ´ Chris says a nervous and a joyless laughter escaping through his lips, `just let me in. I’ve got cinnamon rolls.´

John glances back at the car and then as the breeze carries the scent of Peter Hale right to him, the scent shoots a sense of alarm and panic through him and immediately John shuts the door right in front of the Alpha mate of the man John had loved and trusted but whom he would never trust again, he couldn’t trust Peter around his son since Hale’s didn’t have Dire Cubs because they were perfect and had perfect cubs.

`You can leave the bag,´ John tells his disloyal former friend through the door, his heart was racing his worries for his cub increasing at the knowledge that there were now two Alpha’s who both had a reason to slice the pale throat of his son wide open so close to where his son was.  
  
`Come on John.´ Chris says sounding close to begging but an Argent didn’t beg, John knew this very well, `Please John, I just want to talk. We need to figure all this out before – before this becomes complicated.´ John couldn’t help the snort that escapes him while he begins to lock the door, things were complicated and would remain so for forever, it became complicated the moment Chris and Peter betrayed him.

`John, please, please just let me in.´ Chris continues, he almost sounds desperate which he might be. Chris might just be desperate to get inside the house, get to Stiles, and that thought frightens John to the core.

`No.´ is all John says he’s firm in his answer, unwavering in his decision to keep his baby boy safe.

John had lost so much in his life already. He’d lost the respect and love of his pack and family when it turned out he was an Omega, a burden, a shame. He lost the man he loved on the same day he lost his best friend. John had lost the perfect cub he’d imagined when he gave birth to his son. And John was not about to lose his baby boy, he was not going to risk the one thing that kept him going.

`John please, I just want to talk.´ Chris repeats like a broken record, an annoying broken record.

`Go away.´ John snarls pausing but for a second with the twisting and turning of locks not that they would hold if Chris and Peter did decide to break down the door, but the time it would take them to get through John would’ve had the time to at least do something to try and keep his child safe.

John throws a glance in the direction of the trunk. He’d do anything to keep his son safe, alive.

`Fine.´ the Alpha says suddenly with a heavy disappointed sight, `Fine, John.´

Chris’ words do nothing to ease the fear and need to protect that push and pull at him, John has suffered too many betrayals in life to trust the words of an Alpha or a Beta, heck he doesn’t even trust Omega’s after what happened in New Orleans.

`Fine, John, ´ Chris says with an air of frustration, John’s uneasy feeling grows even when Chris continues to say, ` I’ll leave. ´

It’s strange to John how just those small words can feel so much like a threat, a trap to him, a trick to draw John into making a wrong the wrong decision. John knows the Argent’s, the way they work, and he knows that they never gave-up or walked away from anything which was why all Gerard Argent had left of five children were Kate and Chris.

John knows the Argents, he knows Chris, and so he knows not to trust Chris when he says he’s leaving. Argents never left empty handed.

Everything just feels terribly and horribly wrong to John, and it sets his nerves on edge.

Of course he’d known he was taking a gigantic risk returning to Beacon Hills, but he’d hoped it would be worth it in order to ensure his son got the best care the world had to offer. But not John began to wonder if he’d made the wrong decision, if in his haste to keep his son with him longer had only driven his son into an early grave, or rather had driven the both of them into an early grave since John would never abandon his son.

Through the door John can hear Chris move around a bit, setting down the bag he’d been offering to John, a bag that held some of the things he did need but now that his mind was on fire with fear and worry he dared not trust that the food hadn’t been poisoned after all that was one of Gerard’s favorite tricks; none of the food in the paper bag would touch his sons lips, John would not risk his son suffering like he’d had, but with his son being a Dire Cub with his wolf not fully developed any small amount of wolfs bane could kill him be it a slow and horrible death. No, John could not risk feeding his son something tainted, he’d just have to try and go to the store later or just try and hunt down something small in the woods at the back of the house; sure Stiles wouldn’t want to eat the meat without some struggle and a lot of coaxing, but what was John to do?

`We’re leave John, ´ Chris says startling John out of his thoughts, thoughts someone would perhaps call paranoid but John would rather be paranoid that suffer the fate of losing his son by trusting the wrong people; there were no laws protecting Dire Cubs, a stranger could easily kill one and still get away with it with nothing more than a slap on the wrists. If being paranoid kept his son safe, alive, then John Stilinski would be forever a paranoid fool.

He hears the Alpha start to make his way away from the door, there’s frustration and anger in his voice as he speaks to John for what John could only wish was for the last time, `But John, we need to deal with this – we have to deal with this situation.´ There something about the way Chris speaks, the tone and shape of his words that causes John to feel like he’s back down in that dank basement of the Argent house, dangling from the rafter like a dear waiting to be stripped and gutted, he can hear Gerard speaking and Kate making plans that would doom him to death or a life far worse.

` You can’t expect us to ignore this – this thing of yours…´

Thing? Thing!? John’s mind snaps at the way this alpha had referred to John’s young son, his precious fighter of a cub who’d done no one ill or harm.

Of course John had heard people call his son many different degrading and hurtful names but for some reason hearing this Alpha who’d been John’s best friend in the past, and who’d mated with the Alpha John had loved, hearing Chris speak of his little boy like he was some disgusting snail just made John see bloody red. With his senses of reason and thought clouded so with a deep sense of rage that had perhaps always sat there in the regards of Chris Argent, John Stilinski threw caution in the wind and began to unlock the door with a fierce determination to reach the foul Alpha of a traitor and render his bones to dust, and as he yanks the door open a few unlocked locks breaking John let’s out a roar he’d only a handful of times allowed to escape each time brought on by the need to protect and defend his young.

The Alpha is caught off guard and so it takes very little effort for the former Omega to take the Alpha down, one might’ve easily mistaken the former Omega a beta as he threw his entire body at the Alpha who hit the ground hard.

`Are you threatening me and my son? ´ John snarls squeezing the back of the Alpha’s neck and holding him down like he was nothing more than scum which Chris had become the day he and Peter made the choice to betray and hurt him the worst possible way, he doesn’t care that he’s causing the Alpha to bleed since it took everything in John not to rip the spine out of the body beneath his own.   
  
`John, ´ Chris growled in warning, `get off of me.´  
  
John hears Peter move inside the car, he can hear him curse and call out to his mate which does nothing to fizzle out the anger that clouds John’s mind. John doesn’t hesitate to slam Chris’ head back into the ground as he moves to lift it, to look at John with Alpha-red eyes, but John will have none of that.

`Are you here to kill him?´ John snarls into the ear of the Alpha he wishes he could just beat into the ground, he’d might even plant some cheerful colored flowers on Chris’ grave to please his little son, ` Are you here to kill my son!? To put him down! Is that your fucking plan!?´

`N-no.´ Chris coughs out, grass and dirt as well as blood flying out of his mouth, but John doesn’t believe him the slightest bit and he lets the Alpha know it by yelling down at him, `I don’t believe a single word that comes out of your lying mouth.´   
  
`John! Stop! Stop!´ John hears Peter yell, demand, order but John was no longer chained by the horrible chains nature provided omegas with which made them obedient and submissive to any Alpha. The chains had been cut like John had been years ago, there were still nights when he woke-up screaming because of nightmares where he was still trapped down there in hell with Kate and her knives, now John was nothing but someone who had a freewill unlike any beta or Omega or even an Alpha; he was unchained and some might say unhinged with the need to protect what little he had to love.

John shoots a glare up at Peter Hale who was now out of the car and taking the first steps towards him and Chris flashing his Alpha red eyes at John, the red of his eyes and the booming voice demanding him to obey to be the good little omega he’d once been, but it’s not the demand of an Alpha to get off of Chris that has John scrambling away from the other Alpha, what has John moving away from Chris is the horrific realization that there are now two Alpha’s so close to his house and home; it’s the frightful realization that he’d left the front door wide open as if welcoming Peter to enter and kill what he’d helped create.

John curses his lack of judgement because in his anger he’d left his son unprotected, he’d left the door wide open for Peter.

Panic floods John’s mind mercilessly and he does his best to get back inside the house, to lock him and his son inside what hopefully would be a place of safety. He sees nothing but the open door, and hears nothing but the frantic beat of his terrified heart and the horrific rushing of his own blood.

He fears he may have just killed his own son by his own reckless actions. 


	4. What Distance Has Wrought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, a small update for this tale of misery and pain, as well as the tale of John Stilinski’s love for his little boy. It has been some time since the last update and I do apologize, and I wish some still remember this fic and will enjoy an update for it. 
> 
> Now in this chapter we have more of Chris and Peter, a thing that will continue in the next chapter too. I sort of felt the need to write something with Chris’ POV, and show a bit of the trouble he has with this unexpected turn of events. 
> 
> Now don’t worry, he isn’t going to harm Stiles, but one has to understand that there will be a moment where he will be torn between loathing this child because it is an unwanted reminder of what was between Peter and John, and because like everyone else Chris has this view of Dire Cubs that isn’t flattering, or I’d like to think that with time Chris will be able to see past these issues.

Seeing John Stilinski living and breathing after all the long years of believing him dead and gone, Chris had been shocked to the core, more so when finding John burdened with a damaged cub. Chris hadn’t known how to take any of it even without the broken cub carrying a scent that was the union of two he knew so well.

By scent alone this child was declared as John’s and Peter’s, there was no denying it.  
  
Chris had been aware, painfully aware, of Peter’s and John’s carnal knowledge of each other. He’d been aware of how deep John’s affections for Peter ran, how deep his trust of Peter doing the right thing by him had ran, and Chris had been too weak to correct his friend. Chris had known that John and Peter had shared more with each other than light touches and soft kisses, but never not once had Chris imagined there would be something born from their carnal knowledge of one another.

Seeing a life, a broken one, created from Peter’s seed had shook Chris up more than he’d ever like to admit. It had been a slap in the face, a kick in the balls and a stab in the heart. That ruined piece of flesh and bones was a painful declaration of a relationship past its prime.

Chris had missed his dear friend, grieved John’s believed passing, blamed both himself and Peter and their mating for John’s believed so firmly untimely death, not once thinking that the Omega would appear with what under more blessed circumstances would’ve been Peter’s rightful heir, or in better circumstances had done so without an heir or this Dire Cub.

It was a selfish part of Chris that wished that John had returned to town empty handed. The more Chris saw John’s devotion to the broken cub the more he wished it gone, and the more he wished it the greater his shame grew.

The cub made Chris’ feel conflicted, he was overjoyed to see his friend alive but the Dire Cub was an unwanted surprise and Chris knew not how to handle it and neither did Peter.

There was no doubt that without the cub that their reunion would’ve been less trying, less tense, there was however a Dire Cub of Peter’s blood in the mix and John seemed determined to keep it from not only him but Peter as well.

It was foolish of John to think Peter would simply let this pass, that he’d simply ignore both John’s return and the accidental creation he brought with him, and frankly Chris was no more willing to simply ignore John’s return. It was idiotic of John to think for even a second that he and his mate would simply ignore the fact that John had given birth to this cub of Peter’s, it was ridiculous of John to think that neither Peter or Chris would simply be fine with the knowledge that John had mutilated himself to the point he could no longer be considered a proper Omega.

John’s behaviour was outstandingly out of character.

After the hostile encounter at the parking lot both Peter and Chris had been stunned, at their wits end, which lasted for several minutes during which Chris could swear Peter had pulled out an impressive amount of hairs off of his well-groomed head.

`This – this will not do, not at all. ´ Peter had growled once the worst of the shock had worn thin, and it took some strength to stop Peter from storming off after John.

Although Peter was within his rights to seek John out, to demand access to the cub, Chris couldn’t think of anything worse than allowing a less than calm and collect Peter Hale confront a clearly distressed John, and so Chris held his mate back trying to direct the restless and dangerous energy of his mate elsewhere.

`Peter, no. Peter, stop. ´ Chris demanded grabbing his mate firmly by the arm and holding him back, going as far as taking the keys off of him, `You can’t just chase on after an upset, angry, distrusting omega. ´

`Didn’t you smell him!? ´ Peter barks at him furiously, eyes carrying a dangerous glow in them, and if Chris wasn’t equally as strong and capable to stand on his own against Peter he may have coward a little, but Peter and Chris were equally matched on the grounds they now stood on in true battle there were differences that depending on circumstances would sway victory one way or another.

`He’s hardly a proper Omega anymore! ´ Peter snapped.

`I did. ´ Chris calmly states, he may not like the change in John but what had been done could not be undone, they could only now respect John’s decision.

`But that doesn’t change the fact that you are an Alpha, ´ Chris does his best to try and reason with his mate and to keep the car-keys from Peter’s reach, ` and it doesn’t change the fact that he is still weaker than you or that he now has a cub… ´

`MY CUB! ´ Peter roars in his face and Chris is proud of himself for not so much as flinching.

`I’m perfectly aware of that particular detail Peter. ´ Chris states calmly even though the wolf in him is anything but calm about the fact that Peter had fathered a child, Chris continues to stand his ground and meeting the angry gaze of his mate, ` but think this, if the tables were turned – no, let’s say you had a little cub to protect and a stronger Alpha came storming onto your property or chased after you both, how would you feel and react to it? ´

Peter looks ready to argue that he’d be fine, but then as he glares into Chris eyes he yields and says, `Fine. Fine. You win. ´ The anger in Peter remains however and he soon growls out, `And what the Hell would you have me do Christopher? Would you have me simply pretend he’s not back? Pretend that – that it wasn’t mine? Is that what you’ll have me do Christopher? Play bloody pretend every-fucking-time they cross my path? ´

Peter is close to erupting in a display of destructive anger, this much Chris can tell by the way Peter calls him Christopher and by the way Peter now curses here and there.

`Of course not. ´ Chris says sharply, being soft and gentle with Peter has never worked with him when Peter has reached this point, if anything in these moments being soft and gentle towards Peter seemed to only rub the alpha the wrong way.

Chris breathes in slowly, trying to keep his own agitation from his voice, and fighting to keep his head clear, and slowly a thought rises into his mind and he offers it to Peter who has started to pace around like a cage tiger, growling out curses and words of, `A fucking Dire Cub. ´

`Listen, ´ and with that Peter’s attention snaps back to him, his beautiful blue eyes still wild with anger, `Let’s get his groceries, and then we can track him back to wherever he is staying and… ´

`Offer him an olive branch in the form of groceries. ´ Peter guesses and Chris nods, and it earns Chris a proud smile from his mate.

`Clever mate of mine. ´ Peter grins at him before granting him a quick yet passionate kiss.

It took them over twenty-minutes to locate the items John had touched, followed by Peter wasting several more minutes on discarding the cheaper brands for more expensive ones, Peter couldn’t help himself the drive to do good and prove his worth driving him and thus making this shopping trip last for over an hour.

By the time they were done, they had four bags of only groceries and several packages of diapers which Peter had picked out carefully with an air of distaste grumbling about how a normal cub wouldn’t need them by now, and a small bag of Welcome Home gifts for John to hopefully enjoy.

The drive to what turned out to be the old Stilinski house was a slow one, and during the drive Peter’s mood grew darker.

`How could he do this? ´ Peter snarled as he parked the car outside the familiar house, hitting the steering-wheel harder than necessary as his frustration grew, `How could he hide something like that from me? ´

Chris had no good answer to Peter’s questions, and frankly he didn’t care to answer them as his own mood had taken a turn. The wolf beneath his skin was pacing around and growling, the beast in him felt betrayed by both its mate and friend, and the wolf in him did not care at all for the damaged cub which made Chris’ less animalistic side anxious.

`Honestly, I don’t know. ´ Chris answers while trying his best to ignore the growls and snarls of his own wolf, trying his best to turn a deaf ear to the dark demands it was making.

`But he did, and now we have to deal with his choices. ´ Chris grits out, trying his best not to snap at his mate.

`I know. I know. ´ Peter growls, his eyes flashing bloody-red, `Don’t you think I don’t know that? ´

`Don’t. You. Growl. At. Me. ´ Chris warns his mate, his voice cold and hard.

`This, this is hardly my fault. ´ Chris points out none too friendly while allowing his own eyes flash crimson as he continued to say, `I’ll go and talk to him. You stay here and cool down. ´

`No. Not going to happen. I’m going with you, and we’re sorting this shit out right the fuck now. ´ Peter starts while unbuckling his seatbelt ready to rush into a situation blind and full of unbridled rage.

`Listen. ´ Chris snaps and grabs Peter by the shoulder as the alpha makes a move to get out of the car and no doubt storm the house. Peter turned to glare at him, but Peter’s glare held no power over Chris at least not today.

`Listen. Just listen, with the way you are right now he’s not going to open the door. ´ Chris reasons, hoping Peter would understand that he was right about this.

`Then I’ll break the door down. ´ Peter responds none to wisely.

`Oh well that’s going to help forge a fine bridge of communication between the three of us, isn’t it Peter. ´ Chris says voice finally revealing exactly how frustrated he was becoming with Peter and the whole situation.

` Peter, do you want his next move to be running off to only Gods know where? Is that what you want? Because he will, his instincts will drive him to take the cub and run. ´ Chris says as best he can without snapping and growling at Peter who appeared to struggle with find an answer, but in the end Peter submitted to Chris’ wisdom.

Settling back into his seat, Peter let out a long sigh that was ripe with frustration and anger. Every movement Peter made was tight, agonizingly controlled. With hands sporting sharp and dangerous claws Peter began to test the durance of the steering wheel, squeezing it tightly and without mercy as he gritted out angrily, `Fine. Go. Talk to him. ´

`Just try and calm down. ´ Chris tells Peter before getting out of the car, he doesn’t bother to tell his mate to breathe in slowly and exhale slower, he doesn’t try and offer ways for Peter to lose some of his rightful anger for it would all be for naught. If Peter would get rid of his anger, he’d do it and he’d do it best without Chris directing him, after all he’d already done it once today and once was the limit for Peter.

Grabbing a couple of bags of groceries, and a package of diapers, Chris was startled to realize that Peter’s less than steady temperament had only bloomed to this sometime after John’s departure, and it made him question if Peter had once held more affection for the Omega than what he’d claimed.

Swallowing down the uneasiness the thought of his mate perhaps loving the Omega, Chris made the short walk up to the house he’d never imagined John would ever want to build a life in.

Chris worked to try and calm his own nerves with some controlled breathing and focusing his thoughts on the task at hand instead of the possibility that his mate may have loved John Stilinski, the idea made his wolf feel possessive of their mate demanding they make John well-aware to whom the Alpha belonged too.

Steadying his mind Chris knocked on the reinforced door, a door that spoke of the level of fear that had taken hold of John. It was a terribly sad thing to find John unable to feel safe in Beacon Hills, it was heart-breaking to see how unsecure John felt here and who distrusting he’d become of both Chris and Peter.

Trying his best to ignore the ray of emotions that started to bubble-up to the surface at the sight of the door, at the thought of John hiding behind it afraid and alone and burdened so, Chris knocks while sending of a grand hope to the universe that John would give him a chance to speak. He prays as he waits for the door to open that John would give him and Peter a chance to mend the bridges that had burned with Chris’ and Peter’s mating.

But Chris knows just by the cold and suspicious gaze, the abruptness of John’s responses that his friend is unwilling to listen, to give their friendship a chance to mend. Yet, Chris does try, he does push, only to be attacked for his efforts which seemed to confirm his opinion that John wasn’t alright or fine.

 

 


	5. What A Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little update before I overthink this once more. 
> 
> Oh, before you all lose it, before the pitchforks are raised and the torches are lit, know what the start of this chapter doesn’t reflect on how Peter will ultimately feel about his cub. Sometimes the initial shock of the moment does not carry out far. Sometimes people just need time to get over their own hiccups, and Peter just needs time.

Losing John had been a dreadful thing. A terrible thing. A sudden thing.

The guilt that came from the prospect of being at blame for the Omega’s perceived death, a death believed to have transpired by John’s own hand, it had been a terrible burden to carry. It seemed more natural, easier to think that the Omega would take his own life than leave and build a life elsewhere.

It had been a devastating blow for both Peter and Chris to lose their dear John, the imagined death of their dear John had put a slight strain on their fresh mating, but with time their shared grief forged a bond of love.

However, John was not dead, his body was not a scattering of bones at the bottom of a river or in the deepest part of the great forest that stretched further than the eye could see. John was alive. He was changed, but alive no less.

John had returned to Beacon Hills, and he had not done so alone.

Peter experienced a ray of emotions when he caught the scent of his cub, a child he’d never known had been created or born. He had gone from shock quickly to joy which then dwindled into despair for his cub was a Dire Cub; and the with the realization his and John’s cub was a Dire Cub came shame, and disgust soon followed as the prospect of fathering such a thing hit him, a sense of humiliation settled within him quickly enough for this was not the sort of child a Hale should make.

  
He’d even felt the need to hide the cub away from sight so no one else would know about the cub carrying the Hale-bloodline.

And then came the terrible ache of sorrow, not simply for the perfect cub he should’ve had but because of the strain this child put on John. John who had never had it easy in life was now burdened with such a terrible burden as a Dire Cub.

There soon bloomed anger in Peter’s heart, an anger directed at the world for giving him a child that was so imperfect, so faulty. His anger burned with fire unknown towards John too for how dare he keep this – this undeniable disaster - a secret from him? How dare the Omega have a child of his, a Dire Cub, and not tell him? And how dare he come back to Beacon Hills and deny Peter his rights?

Peter’s mood swayed from one extreme to the next, a moments respite came only when he could focus on providing for John. It was strangely soothing having to focus on finding all the things John needed, and perhaps didn’t need but should in Peter’s opinion. However, once inside the car with his mate at his side, driving down familiar streets his mood began to swing from left to right, up and down, swirling around in nauseating fashion.

Chris was right and wise to demand he stay in the car, Peter knew it even if it angered him, and he knew the moment he caught a glimpse of John and heard the unfriendly and suspicious tone in his voice that regardless if he had stayed in the car or not the outcome would be unfavourable to him and Chris.

Seeing his mate get attacked was not something Peter had been expecting. John had never seemed the violent sort, certainly he’d attempted to stand-up for himself but never before had Peter seen such a display of violence from John as he did when the destroyed-Omega lunged at his mate.

Without second-thought, without considering whether or not Chris could handle John on his own, Peter was ready to defend Chris to the death if need be, there was no question in his mind that he would’ve gone as far as killing John if he did not backdown. Peter was very much prepared to paint the ground red with John Stilinski’s blood, but instead of having to take on John in an unfair fight the ruined-Omega leaped unto his feet and hurried in a blind panic away from Chris.

The stench of John’s fear and self-loathing was so thick that it left Peter stunned for a moment, and he watched with complete uselessness as John ran towards the house, his movements ungraceful and almost comical when fuelled by fear unknown to Peter.

There’s no hope of stopping John or preventing him from tripping over the bags of groceries Peter and Chris had bought for him, all Peter can do is cry out a fruitless warning and watch as the one with whom he shared many firsts falls. The sound of John’s head contacting with the frame of the reinforced door sent a dreadful chill through Peter’s body. Seeing John’s body settle, unmoving body only partly inside the house John had now settled into with Peter’s son.

Peter doesn’t move, not at first, too shocked to do so. But then as if struck by lightning Peter is on the move, rushing over to where John lay thankfully only unconscious and not dead.

`He – he’s alive. ´ Peter quickly tells his mate as he gingerly moves John so that he could take a better look at him. It’s been so long since he’s been able to truly look at the male who’d struggled to accept the card nature had dealt him.

Time had not been gentle with John, there were many lines brought on by worry and dread. He appeared older than his years to Peter, and it made Peter wonder what life his dear-John had endured. John’s life had to have been much harder and crueller than it would’ve been if he’d stayed near those who’d cared for him, and Peter had and still did care for John as did Chris.

Peter can hear the sigh of relief leave his mate, they may not have the best relationship with John at the moment, but that didn’t change the fact that the unconscious man was still dear to both of them.

`Take him inside. ´ Chris tells him while slowly rising to his feet, clearly worried that they might’ve drawn unwanted attention, Peter however didn’t think any of John’s neighbours would bother to call the police on them not when knowing John wasn’t an Omega anymore but an abomination of sorts, and no one would sound the alarm if Peter took the cub and killed it right there outside on the small patch of grass. No one would care and Peter knew this, and in his heart of hearts surely Chris knew this too.

Carefully Peter picks his former lover off of the cold hard ground. He is mindful of John’s injuries, there’s a small gash that bleeds sluggishly. Peter is gentle in his hold as he carries John like a fine bride into the unnervingly silent house.

The quiet is unnatural, it sets Peter’s nerves on edge for never should a house be this silent. The muteness of his surroundings set both him and his wolf on edge, their movements silent and cautious, their bodies expecting some attack to come from every corner.

A house was not a grave, it was not a tomb, a house was a place where life should be seen and heard.

Peter breathes in heavily when he hears Chris enter the house soon after him, carrying the bags, his steps are a bit off no doubts due to some small injury sustained during the attack.

There’s not much in the way of furniture or anything else, if it’s a personal choice or simply due to the lack of the finances that would allow John to possess more than just a few bits and pieces.

With great care Peter moves to lay John down on the silly looking couch, tucking him in with a fleece blanket that smells so strongly of John and the cub that it makes Peter dizzy, it’s a pleasant sort of scent, one which makes him want to rub his own scent into the mix so no one would ever make the mistake of trying to claim it for their own.

Hearing Chris placing the bags with their slightly crushed contents on the nearest flat surface that wasn’t the floor, Peter turns his gaze away from John, and instead of focusing on the lines now creasing John’s once flawless skin he takes in the surroundings of John’s home.

The place lacks a great deal in comfort, and there’s something bleak about the interior and scarcity of things that it makes him think John isn’t planning on staying in Beacon Hills for long. This house feels not like a home.

`What a dull little place. ´ Peter states without thinking while Chris moves to inspect the gash on John’s forehead, it’s barely bleeding and Peter doubts there be even a scar left as a reminder of the missteps made today.

`Not everyone is as fortunate as you and I are Peter. ´ Chris reminds him sternly reminding Peter that unlike him Chris would’ve been perfectly happy if they lived a much simpler life, a life Peter would’ve been unable to bare for surely a man should have his own library and dressing-room? A simple walk-in-closet would not due to the likes of Peter Hale and neither would a simple shelf of books, he was used to the finer things in life even after mating Chris.

`True. True. ´ Peter agrees for he’d be a fool not too, still Peter can’t help but find what he sees dreary at best.

The sight of the groceries has Peter on the move, after all the fine meat he had bought would not do well sitting out in the open like this. He grabs the bags and walks into the small kitchen, a kitchen so small it felt almost claustrophobic to Peter. His mind starts to work immediately on all the changes John should do to make the kitchen more functional and pleasant.

`Chris, my love, ´ Peter calls out to his mate while he sets the bags down on the kitchen counter that looked that carried the distinctive stench of cheap cleaning fluids, it made his sensitive nose itch and he makes a mental-note to try and replace these cheap products with much better ones that didn’t batter your senses with vicious stenches.

`Don’t worry, I’ll get the rest of the bags. ´ Chris responds without a hint of attitude or frustration, it still amazes Peter how well his mate knows him, it is rare when Peter has to truly ask Chris to do something and when he does it is usually something Chris could never have foreseen.

Still after all these years the way Chris knows him makes Peter smile, certainly John had known him equally as well, but they hadn’t been mated and never spent hours upon hours with each other.

Opening cupboard doors Peter quickly notices that John doesn’t have much in them, most of them were empty and free to collect dust. John possesses a couple of proper plates and glasses, a few mugs, hardly any utensils really. What he sees makes him think at first John has no plans to stay, that this is but a stop on his road to somewhere.

A growl leaves him as he stares into the empty shelves, but this growl dies down when he sees something that looks like a daily schedule attached to the door of the fridge. Curiosity draws him to inspect the carefully made creation dictating the daily routines of John Stilinski and more so the daily life of the Dire Cub.

Peter recognizes John’s handwriting immediately, after all John had dealt with many of Peter’s homework. He also notices a small notebook next to the fridge, and Peter who has always been the sort to read diaries that aren’t his own is surprised to find it to be a diary of sorts about the cub. Peter finds in these pages John’s dedication to the Dire Cub, this meticulous diary details what the cub eats and drinks, the ruined Omega has even documented each bath. Peter is frankly surprised by how detailed John is in documenting the life of the Dire Cub, even each nap and nightly sleeps are written down in details of not only the amount of rest and if the rest has been peaceful or not, John has even documented the amount of diaper changes and the colour and texture of the all the things that came out of the child.

Peter is stunned by the effort John makes in keeping track of the cub, and as he opens the cupboard above he finds it containing not only a variety of medications and but more notebooks and binders. It is clear that John has, is, devoted to this cub more so than anyone would dream to be.

Peter’s own siblings have never been this devoted to keep track of the well-being of their own children, but his nieces and nephews were normal and healthy while John and his little creation was defective.

`That’s a lot of medication. ´ Peter hears Chris breathe out in astonishment, before the sound of another set of bags being placed on the counter is heard.

`Waste of money. ´ Peter declares without thinking, he’s ability to think before speaking has always been affected by John in one way or another.

`I’m sure there’s a reason for them. ´ Chris says, his voice holds that timber that warns Peter to tread carefully now, but Peter has no desire to be cautious now not when his world is suddenly turned upside down.

`Why waste all of his energy, all his money on something that isn’t worth all these sacrifices. ´ Peter grumbles before turning his attention towards the groceries. A long heavy, frustrated or perhaps simply annoyed sigh escapes his mate.

`What? ´ Peter asks, he loathes Chris sighs and huffs, he prefers his mate to say what is on his mind instead of these annoying little sounds that are more irritating than Talia spreading her wisdom where it’s not wanted or needed.

`I dare say John loves the child. ´ Chris says, his voice revealing that it wasn’t only Peter who was annoyed at the moment, `One does anything for the people one loves. Or am I wrong? ´

`This is different. It isn’t…´ Peter starts but then another more pressing mater rises above this small disagreement between him and his mate.

`Where’s the cub? ´ Peter asks as he attempts to hear an unfamiliar heartbeat, but he can’t hear it and it’s strangely unnerving. His question causes Chris to pause, and Peter sees the same amount of confusion and dare Peter say concern.

`I can’t hear it, at all. ´ Peter states before he starts the search for the cub, from what Peter could see on the schedule on the fridge and the detailed notes of the daily activities of the cub he knows that the cub should be there.

 


	6. Little Dire Cub, Where are You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings everybody who are still following this little tale, and anyone who only now has stumbled upon it. Hopefully you shall enjoy this little update. Sorry for the massive wait.

They search the house, the entire miserable house, both males growing more and more agitated as no cub could be found. During the search for the missing Dire Cub, Chris and Peter learned more about the life of John Stilinski, and most of what they learn wasn't great. 

It became abundantly clear that John's life revolved around the Dire Cub that was now missing. Once loved crime novels and books of mystery were now replaced with anything and everything that had to do with Dire Cubs, be they published works or not. John's life seemed to be all about the Dire Cub. John hardly had enough clothes to get him through a week, and yet the Dire Cub had plenty of clothes which were all made of soft and expensive fabrics, John had nothing much to call his own while the Dire Cub had plenty of soft toys.

 

What Peter finds during the search makes him truly question John's sanity, for what sane person would waste their life and finances on a cub destined to die young? Why suffer so for something that was even by mother moon and nature unwanted?

Slamming the narrow door of the small closet used in the past as a linen closet, Peter curses loudly before deciding to stop this useless search of a Cub he'd not wanted to create but had done so none the less.

Ignoring his mates calls for him to wait, to stop, and questioning what he was going to do, Peter hurries downstairs ready to perhaps shake some answers out of the unconscious former-omega, but instead coming to a sudden halt as he enters the small living-room.

Peter stares at the untouched trunk that just stood there, almost in the middle of the room.

Peter found it more than a little bit peculiar that during their search for the Dire Cub that neither he or Chris had touched the old-trunk, it seemed strange to him that he had overlooked this trunk during the search for the Dire Cub. Peter knows he's walked past it, around it, several times, and yet he'd somehow completely ignored it.

 

Moving towards the trunk Peter can't help but wonder why he hadn't checked the inside of the trunk, Peter could not understand how he left the trunk unchecked, it seemed so out of character for him to fail to search a hiding place that stood almost in the middle of the room. Then again, it was equally as odd that Chris hadn't checked the trunk too, after all Chris was as capable of seeking out things as he was.

 

Something wasn't right about that beaten-up trunk.

`Peter? Peter, what are you.... ´ he hears his mate shout while hurrying down the stairs, however before Chris can say anything more Peter asks him a question, a question that suddenly felt very important to him.

 

`Why didn't you check the trunk? ´Peter asks his mate, still not taking his eyes off of the trunk.

 

Chris pauses somewhere right behind him.

`The trunk? ´ Chris asks before moving to stand right beside him, and Peter gives a short little nod.

 

`Yes. The trunk. ´ Peter says eyes focused on the seemingly innocent trunk situated so innocently near the couch on which John still lay unconscious, if it wasn't for the steady heartbeat and breathing Peter would've been worried about the former-omega that had ran from them, but John would be as fine as he could be.

`I - I don't know. ´ it's a truthful answer which makes Peter think there was something more about this simple trunk, and Chris continues voice full of confusions, `I didn't even...´

 

`Notice or think about it? ´ Peter gently suggests before starting to make his way over to the trunk, Chris' reply is exactly the one he expects it to be, the answer alone proves that there's something more about this lonely little trunk.

` I didn't even notice it. How is that possible? ´ his mate says, voice shaky with concern. No doubt his mare was questioning his own sanity now, the curse of the Argents as some called it was suspected to have raised its distorted head within Kate as she'd become more and more violent in nature, cruel even to those she claimed to love.

 

Peter takes in the appearance of the trunk, going as far as walking around the seemingly ordinary trunk, he circles the trunk a few times as he scrutinised the heavy looking trunk that John seemed to use innocently enough as a coffee table.

`Something odd about this trunk, don't you think? ´ Peter says before he starts to remove the bits and pieces John had placed upon it, discarding them on the floor beside the trunk.

 

There's an unnerving silence that seems to surround the trunk, unnatural silence that made Peter feel incredibly ill at ease, there's something about the trunk that just isn't right. A strange dread settles within him at the thought of finding the Dire Cub dead, the tiny broken creature dead from suffocation; Peter knows it would destroy John if the cub had died because of something John had done. 

 

Carefully, slowed down with a fear he could not understand, Peter Hale starts to lift the lid of the trunk. He breathes out a shaky breath of relief as a loud cry breaks through as soon as the tiniest of openings is created, an opening that was no greater than the thickness of a simple sheet of paper.

 

Magic had been at work in hiding the cub, and Peter can't help but feel impressed by the level of magic used to hide the cub.

 

Peter is not the only one who breathes out a sigh of relief as the loud cries of the cub breaks free, for a similar sound leaves his mate. Peter can positively feel the weight of worry, dread, lift and vanish from the both of them.

`There you are. ´ Peter says rather victoriously as his eyes land on the small child who cried without showing his ears mercy.

 

Gazing down at the small child, Peter has to admit that the child isn't exactly displeasing to look at, even now when the cubs face was bright-red and stained with tears and snot and drool the cub wasn't ugly. Peter was certain that it would look much sweeter in a better mood, and perhaps that might be all it took to charm John into keeping it for this long.  

With an air of nervousness Peter reaches down into the trunk, carefully lifting the little boy who had wet himself during his isolation. The Dire Cub was disgustingly smelly, and Peter is reluctant to hold the Dire Cub close to him.

`How small you are. ´ Peter says to the little distressed boy, it was strange how quickly the tiny body could go from being painfully rigid to completely floppy one minute. Peter doesn't hold the child close to him as one would with a small child, he rather holds it out at an arms-length neither supporting its head this causing it's head to flop like that of stuffed toy that had lost most of its stuffing.

 

Peter takes in the details of the small cub, struggling not to drop the cub that wailed so very loudly, causing a splitting headache to form behind his eyes.

 

`We should probably do something. ´ Chris says covering his nose and mouth with hand as the stench was becoming a bit too much for him to endure gracefully.

 

`A bath. ´ Chris suggest while turning away from the cub and his mate, and Peter understands very well the need to escape the stench coming off of the Dire Cub.

 

Peter can't help but feel that it is disappointing to have such a useless cub, a cub with no future or use, and he wonders why John had kept it alive for this long when its outlook in life was at best grim.

 

`Excellent idea. ´ Peter says, still holding the little boy up for both inspection and judgement but also to keep the child as far from the rest of his body, and Peter is truly eager to get rid of the stench.

**~*~*~*~**

The search for the cub had been a straining one, as well as a baffling one, but eventually the screaming cub was found within a trunk that was not as ordinary as it would seem at first glance, and while Chris felt a slight relief when the cub was found there was a darker-side of him that was disappointed.

 

This darker and possessive part of Chris wished that their mate hadn't found the cub, at least not until it had suffocated inside the trunk where it had been placed in by John, these dark thoughts are the sort that Chris has never possessed before, these thoughts are dreadful and frightful not the sorts Chris was used too, and these wishes made him question whether or not the madness of his family had truly been passed down to him.

Stepping inside the now messy bathroom Chris feels ashamed by the mess they'd made of John's home while they searched to the crying cub, there are towels covering the old-tiled floor, a floor now littered with rolls of toilet paper and other things Peter had dug out from the cabinets above and beneath the bathroom sink. Why exactly his mate had knocked down things off of simple shelves upon which you could not hide a child, let alone a tiny butterfly, was beyond Chris' understanding.

 

Chris is tempted to ask Peter who was going to clean the mess he'd made for surely it should not fall on John's head, but the question gets stuck on his tongue as his mate demands him to draw a bath, and a dreadful thought about perhaps drowning the cub in the warm bathwater flashes through his mind.

 

`What's wrong?´ Peter asks him, startling Chris who quickly claimed that nothing was wrong, except for the mess Peter had made.

 

`Don't start. ´ Peter grumbles doing his best to avoid seeing the mess he had created, it was such a Peter move that it brings a tiny flicker of a smile on Chris' lips, ` just get the bath ready, this stench is giving me a headache. ´

Chris does as he is told, trying to focus only on the task at hand and not the demented throughs swirling within his mind.

The constant loud crying of the cub gives birth to a dreadful headache, one which grows with the intensity of a wildfire, and he is tempted to demand his mate to silence the little bastard-cub but Chris can't give way to such unkind desires.  

 

`Hurry up. ´ Peter says while still holding the cub like some filthy puppy caught playing in the mud.

`This crying is doing my head in. ´ Peter grits out, he's growing more annoyed with the cub as Chris is who is tempted to suggest Peter to simply slit the pale little throat of the noisy cub.

 

`Maybe if you held it properly it wouldn't be screaming its head-off. ´ Chris grits out while cursing the slow flow of the water filling the bathtub, water that is also taking its sweet time getting warm which screams of how terrible this little house truly was.

 

`Its filthy. ´ is all Peter says in such a way one would think he believed Chris unaware of the fact that Peter's little bastard was a mess inside and out.

`Oh you don't say. ´ Chris grumbles, before uselessly abusing the tap he'd already turned over and over again to the point it couldn't be turned anymore without breaking the damn thing, but it's the only thing he can think to do in a desperate and useless attempt at encouraging the water to turn just a little bit warmer. 

 

` Don't give me attitude. ´ Peter responds then, but at least his mate places the screaming Dire Cub down on the floor, well on the floor with a towel beneath it but the move doesn't help ease the distress of the cub, it seems to only increase to volume of horrific wailing. The cub grows even more distressed as Peter starts to try to remove the soiled fabrics which had covered the its body.

 

Chris watches Peter with an uneasy heart as he cleans off the cub rather roughly with a dry towel, the already slightly irritated skin turning into an even angrier shade of red, there's no affection behind the way Peter tends to the cub which slightly eases the knot in Chris' stomach; still Chris watches his mate closely, now and again checking the water until it feels alright, not that he knows whether or not the temperature would work for the screaming creature that seemed unwilling to settle anytime soon.

 `I think the water is fine. ´ Chris informs Peter who eagerly moves the smelly, screaming, cub up and off of the floor, and while Chris moves aside to give Peter room to bathe his cub while Chris would search for a clean towel.

 

Chris doesn't see it happen, but he hears the child make a very distinctive sound that not a soul could mistake for anything but that of someone being sick, the sound of vomiting pauses the loud cries, the sound that made his own stomach turn was followed by Peter cursing loudly.  

 

The loud splash of water and a strange sort of muted thud.

 

`It puked on me. It puked on me! ´ Peter exclaims with an air of disbelieving shock and disgust, and for some reason it sounds absolutely hilarious to Chris who has a vivid image of Peter's comical expression one which he hopes to see as he turns around to face his mate, but the bubbling laughter that had been ready to escape him dies down when he sees Peter standing there without the cub in his arms.

 

Any laughter that had been ready to break free is frozen inside of his chest where his heart suddenly stutters.

 

 


	7. My Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small update, hopefully it will be a welcomed sight and read to some of you. Sorry for the long wait, but life and time are clearly not friends of mine.

Although the splash and the peculiar muted thump that followed wasn't all that loud, and yet it felt much louder than a gun going of right by his ear. The splash followed by the disturbing thump shook him to the bone, a chill he'd never experienced before washed over him and settled beneath his skin with intent.  

 Peter can't help but forget all about the state of his shirt, the shirt is suddenly of no importance. 

 Without gazing down into the bathtub Peter knew he'd just made a dreadful mistake.

 There at the bottom of the tub, submerged by the warm bathwater was the Dire Cub. Something dreadfully crimson was seeping into the warm water. Even without sight Peter would've become aware of the blood that was slowly fading into the water, but Peter had sight and so he was able to see the blood that seeped out of the back of the small head as clearly as he could see the rest of the Dire Cub.

 Beneath the water the little boy squints up at him, but there's nothing empty about those eyes looking up at him, there's fear there and distress as if the Dire Cub was a normal cub in peril.

The weak body moved beneath the water, tiny arms flailing and little legs kicking, but there was something rather feeble about these movements. The little mouth was shut tight, at least it was for a little while.   

 Everything seemed to stand still, everything that wasn't surrounded by the bathwater. Peter's brain seemed to have slowed down significantly, his ability to think and act had been reduced into something rather sluggish. 

 There's a part of Peter that firmly believes it would be best for everyone if he left the little cub where it lay, to simply let it drown in the warm water. Allowing the life of a Dire Cub to end was the sort of thing many would do in Peter's shoes, it was even encouraged. 

The death of the child would take care of at least one or two problems, if not more, no one other than John would judge him for it.

 The death of the Dire Cub would free John from this dreadful burden that had fallen on the once perfect omega. The financial strain the broken cub was to John would end if Peter did nothing to save the cub. 

Peter _is_ tempted to just leave the Dire Cub be, to let the need to breathe snuff-out a life many would not want to see continue, and this part feels a sense of ease when the cub finally opens its little mouth, gasping for air that is not there. There is however another part of Peter, a very small part of Peter that isn't all that comfortable about leaving the cub to drown and it's that miniscule part of him that pushes Peter into action.

 Without even rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, Peter reaches into the water, taking hold of the small body that he knew should be much bigger, should be stronger, and above all it should've been able enough to get itself out of the sticky situation he'd dropped it in.

 Without thinking, without taking time to think about the power that lay beneath his skin, Peter reached into the water and took hold of the young life that was as helpless as an infant. His hold of the small life he'd helped create by accident was bruising and unyielding, the fear of losing hold of the Dire Cub which he'd already dropped once causing him to be less than gentle. But the broken child didn't cry, didn't whimper in pain, it remained limp and unresponsive.

 Bringing the motionless body against his own, holding the boy close to his own chest where a panicked heart was beating so fiercely it made him feel ill, Peter listened for a little heart beating and small lunges breathing but the child remained still and silent.

 `No. No. ´ Peter whispered as he looked the boy over before dropping down to the floor beside the bathtub, turning his attention away from the little Dire Cub and focusing on his mate while a sense of panic flooded him much as the bathwater had flooded small lunges that had now stilled. 

 The little cub, the little boy who could've been a source of pride and joy to both him and John if things had turned out different, didn't cry or cough. The once flailing arms and kicking legs were limp, the pouty lips parted without a  whisper of a breath escaping past those pouty lips, eyes without any signs of life half-lidded the dark long lashes soaked as the rest of the little body.

 `What do I do? What do I do? ´ Peter began asking his mate, his voice growing louder as he repeats his questions at the one he often leaned on when he was unable to find the answer needed, his own voice suddenly unrecognizable in its desperation as he wished for the child in his arms to just take a lungful of air. 

 But no matter how often he asked for guidance Chris remained silent, a look of shock plastered upon the familiar face.

 Not knowing what to do but understanding still that something had to be done, Peter hurriedly moves the child to rest over his knee so that the little boy was facing the tiled floor. He knew enough not to try and breathe air into the little body when he wasn't entirely in control of himself. Peter knew that the damage he might do with just one desperate breath could be so much worse than anything he'd already done. 

 `Chris, what - what do I do? ´ Peter asked his mate, desperate for some guidance but Chris remains stunned and silent. 

 Desperate, desperate to do something, anything to get the Dire Cub to breathe again. 

 John would never forgive him if he let the boy die.

 Not thinking twice, but still trying his best to control the strength in his actions Peter began to hit the pale, cold, back of the Dire Cub. Peter noted briefly that there were dark little moles there upon the back that was so small, so fragile beneath his hand as he followed the actions of his sister whenever one of her children was choking on something or other. His hands are shaking, he can feel it, even in the hand the holds the Dire Cub from falling face-first into the ground. Peter fought to keep each hit from being too violent, to damaging, for the last thing John needed was for him to snap the little spine. Each hit leaving behind a bright red print in the shape of Peter's hand on the otherwise pale back, until you couldn't see them anymore for the once pale back was sporting a large and angry red print where each hit had landed.

`I don't know. I don't know. ´ Chris answers suddenly, coming back to his senses, dropping down beside him.  Chris' hands shaky and uselessly hovering near the little boy who seemed gone, already surrender to Death that John had fought so hard to keep as far from the cub as possible.

 Before he can figure out what to do, before his better-half can figure out what needs to be done, the bathroom door is yanked open with such force that the hinges protest loudly. The old doorknob is separated from the door, and it is without care dropped on the floor making a surprisingly loud noise as it hits the tiled floor. 

 The loud roar that follows the forceful opening of the bathroom door, startles the two males trying to find a way to help the life that seemed to some degree unworthy of life. This sound was not one that should've come so naturally from your average omega, but John was no longer an average omega, then again John had never been an average omega. 

The declaration of anger and a willingness to fight to the death if need,  rang loudly inside the small space that held no room for a violent confrontation, so loud that made their ears ring. It was too loud to be the roar of an omega, and the loud sound made it clear that John was no longer the John they'd known. 

There was no chance for Peter to open his mouth, to say a word before the little body in his hold was snatched away. Almost as soon as John held the Dire Cub the wrath dwindled, replaced by despair when John realized his son was deathly silent. And the distressed sounds that broke-free from the former-omega were enough to break even Peter's heart, or at least what remained of his heart. 


End file.
